Fighting for Flight by JB Salsbury (best books for students to read .txt) 📗

“It’s off the Interstate towards the ski resort. You’ll pass through a small town with a diner on the side of the road. The sign looks like a wagon wheel. After that, maybe fifteen minutes or so, there will be a turn off on the right-hand side. Take that until you hit a fork in the road,” she explains while drawing it out. “Right at the fork and follow that.” She hands me the paper. “It’s the only thing out there. You can’t miss it.”

I bolt through the living room to the front door. Blake meets me there, door open and waiting.

“Wait!”

I stop and turn to Milena, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Bring her home safely, and,” she looks at the floor and my heart breaks as the gesture reminds me of Raven, “tell her I love her.”

“When I bring her back, you tell her yourself.”

~*~

Raven

The dark is contagious. It spreads from the simple absence of light to something bigger. Something that seeps in through your eyes and multiplies until it takes you over. Starting with your mind, it works its way through until it extinguishes the last spark of hope you have hidden deep in your heart.

Everything is dark. The moonlight spilling through the window is only bright enough to illuminate a square on the dirty floor. The smell of wood rot matches the creeping dread that fights to become my only companion. But I won’t lose hope. Not yet. Sooner or later, their guard will drop. I’ll run and live in the woods like that boy who was raised by wolves. If it means having my life back, Jonah back, I could do that.

I’ve watched the moon square move across the floor. Dark stains pepper its surface. Is that blood? What happens in this room? I race to the window and push up on the lever to open it. It doesn’t budge. Again. Fear floods my body. Air rushes in and out of my lungs in erratic bursts. A sob crawls into my throat. I hold it back. I won’t let him win. I push it down, numbing myself from the inside out. Detach. Separate my mind from my body. That’s the only way to survive.

I lie back on the bed, the only piece of furniture in the room. Calm, deep breathing, eyes closed. I imagine the bed beneath me is Jonah’s. He’s next to me, his arm thrown over my stomach. My heart rate slows. His breath kisses my cheek as he whispers how much he loves me. My muscles relax. He twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. The corner of my mouth lifts.

Footsteps. I’m thrown from my fantasy. My body sits up ramrod straight, eyes wide.

Each step is tentative, like someone sneaking down the hall. They sound close as the wood floor creaks outside my door.

My heart races. Could it be Jonah?

I rush to the door and press my ear to it. The knob to the door jiggles and twists. I walk backwards until my legs hit the bed. Hope and relief surge through me in waves.

Tears build at the joy of seeing Jonah again. My skin itches for his touch. I’m practically bouncing on the balls of my feet. The door inches open, revealing the tall, dark figure of a man.

I squint into the dark. “Jonah?”

“Nope, but you can go ahead and pretend. Won’t bother me at all.”

Vince. My stomach plummets. Terror snakes through my veins.

He shuts the door behind him. With a slow strut, he comes toward me. He passes through the moonlight square, illuminating his face. His eyes work my body, making his intentions clear. I want to scream, but dread freezes my most primitive reaction.

“You thought I could let you go after what your boyfriend did to me in that parking lot?” He runs the tips of his fingers from my shoulder down to my breast. “It’s payback time.”

No. My head moves from side to side, unable to articulate the word. Fear, exhaustion, and anxiety get the best of me.

He shoves me onto the bed. I scurry backwards as fast as I can. He grabs my neck, pushes me down, and climbs on top of me. I whimper. It’s not much, but it gives me hope.

React, fight, something.

“You be quiet and I’ll take it easy on you. If you fight, I’ll enjoy that, but you won’t.”

Holding my wrists together over my head with one hand, he reaches down and unzips his pants.

Oh God, please no.

He pins me to the bed with his hips. I kick and buck to get out from under him.

“Fight it is.” He licks my neck and bites my earlobe, hard. “This’ll be fun.” His breath smells like liquor. I turn my face to avoid it.

“Stop.” It’s weak, but as the word comes out so does the will to survive. “Get off—”

His hand silences me. My arms ache. My struggle is pointless.

He presses himself between my legs. Twisting and tugging, I try to rip my arms from his grip. Pain rips through my elbow. The only thing keeping him from his goal is my shorts. His weight crushes my body. He anchors me tighter to the bed. His mouth crashes against mine, drowning my screams. I fight and thrash, forcing myself deeper into the bed. My mind screams for him to burst through the door. Jonah, I need you. What do I do?

Break his arm, baby. Arm bar. Remember. Fight.

I squeeze my eyes shut as Jonah’s voice stills my racing thoughts. Tears trail down my temple. It may be panic or some innate survival response, but my lesson on the arm bar comes back in brilliant clarity. I can do this.

That’s my girl.

Waiting for the opportunity is going to be the hardest part. I need to stop fighting so he can free his hands. I breathe deep and stop squirming.

“Change your mind? Not going to fight me anymore?”

I shake my head no.

“Yeah, I knew you were a whore.”

He slides his hand